Harry Potter and His Brother's Keeper
by Earl of Rosshire
Summary: Harry had until now doubted Professor Dumbledore's claim that love was powerful. Now, he is older brother to the last person he would have imagined. And, he still has to vanquish the Dark Lord. Will he? How?
1. Welcome Home, Brother!

A/N: This plot kitty had some promise. It was so desperate to get out, that I set it free this very day, less than twelve hours after I found it. What do you think? Should this plot kitty grow larger? Harry Potter is the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling, et al. The situation alone is mine, at least I haven't read a similar one done by someone else. Rated PG-13 for language, hormonal but non-slash teenagers, and violence including torture, dismemberment, and violent death. Oh well, on with the story.

Harry Potter walked along Privet Drive in the Surrey hamlet of Little Whinging deep in thought. He wore a hand-me-down rain jacket over his hand-me-down clothes to ward off the light rain that fell from time to time on that day in July of 1996, his sixteenth birthday.

He was deep in thought from all that had happened to him in his sixteen years and thirteen hours of life outside his mother's womb. He had known true love from his true parents for little more than a year before Voldemort; the most powerful Dark Wizard in over a century killed them. Harry still wore the scars from that attack, mental and emotional, as well as the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead where the same killing curse that killed his parents instead rebounded upon its caster, giving Harry over ten years of some safety in which to grow up. 

He was barely sustained in his body and emotionally abused by his aunt and uncle for the next ten years. They, unlike Harry and his parents, were "muggles," or non-wizards. Worse yet, their hatred of magic and any who could do it overrode even their love of family. But Harry had to live with them, and they had to willingly accept him, to keep him safe. For his mother tried dying in Harry's place, and succeeded in dying. Because of her magical power and Harry's, a shield was placed on his blood that so long as he dwelled in a house of his mother's blood relatives, he would have extra protection from harm until at least his seventeenth year. His aunt, Lilly Potter's sister Petunia Dursely did take him in willingly, thus sealing the blood charm. But she never loved Harry, thus he suffered in a house cold as ice, with only the kindness of teachers and strangers to keep his naturally kind and loving nature from turning evil.

On his eleventh birthday, he suddenly found himself the hero of the wizarding world; something that even now he barely accepted and wanted not at all. Because Voldemort's curse rebounded, Harry was known as "The Boy Who Lived," the only person to survive Avada Kedavra, the killing curse that destroyed all whom it was cast on, until Harry himself survived it. Since the curse instead rebounded, burning away Voldemort's body, Harry was also thought to have destroyed Voldemort, saving wizarding Britain from indescribable suffering and peril, making him indeed a hero. Sadly, Voldemort's destruction was not total, but it was sufficient for quite a few years. Those years for wizarding Britain, unlike for Harry himself, were joyous indeed.

His time at Hogwarts, the major wizarding school of Britain, was filled with wonder, fun, and danger. It also gave Harry just enough love, at just the right time, to keep him alive and good. It was on the train to Hogwarts that he found his first true friend and surrogate brother Ronald Weasley. Hogwarts also gave him his _second_ true friend and surrogate sister, Hermione Granger. In the Weasley family, he gained surrogate brothers, a surrogate mum and dad, and Ginny Weasley, Ron's eldest sister, who Harry _still_ couldn't quite place as either girlfriend or sister, though she at times seemed both.

But Hogwarts had also robbed him of what had remained of his childhood. He fought one incarnation or the other of Voldemort once for every year of his five years in school! In his first year, he fought off the disembodied spirit of Voldemort, preventing the evil wizard from gaining the Philosopher's Stone, an alchemic catalyst that would have given Voldemort an immortal and physical body. In his second year, he rescued Ginny from a hidden warren of caverns beneath Hogwarts known as the Chamber of Secrets, and from the sixteen year old spirit of Voldemort, who at sixteen was still known as Tom Marvolo Riddle. In his third year, he battled against the twisted legacy of Voldemort, rescuing his falsely accused godfather Sirius Black from the clutches of the Ministry of Magic, the government of wizarding Britain, while accidentally allowing the escape of Peter Pettigrew, the rat-animagus who truly committed the crimes Sirius was accused of, including betraying Harry's parents James and Lilly Potter to Voldemort.

His fourth was truly dismal. Harry was forced to participate as an extra contestant in the Triwizard Tournament, a contest held between Hogwarts and the other two leading wizard schools in Europe. At the end of this tournament, he was transported away by the prize trophy, which was made into a Portkey. This took him to the graveyard outside of Voldemort's home, where Harry was used for a Dark ritual to give Voldemort his body back, immediately after Harry witnessed the murder of Cedric Digory, the other Hogwarts contestant. 

His fifth year of school was indeed the worst yet. It found him broadly slandered by the ministry controlled newspaper, the Daily Prophet. He was attacked by Dementors, the soul-sucking Dark creatures who guarded Azkaban Fortress, on the orders of Delores Umbrage, the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. This same foul woman appointed herself first a professor at Hogwarts, and then replacement Headmaster there, to torment Harry, because she thought the regular Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was trying to overthrow Cornelius Fudge, the current Minister of Magic, with Harry's help. Fudge, in turn, was trying desperately to prevent the general wizarding public from finding out the truth, for fear that he would be voted out of office. After all, his true incompetence and petty corruption were well known by the public, and were strangely tolerated in good times. But with the end of those good times, the public would rightly toss him out onto the street, and find a real leader to see them through the war that was sure to follow.

Harry's curse scar placed a connection in his mind with that of Voldemort, though no one knew exactly how or why. Because of Umbrage's abuse of Harry, he was left open to Voldemort planting misleading dreams in Harry's mind through that link. Because Voldemort was starting to exploit that link, Dumbledore, who had been Harry's surrogate grandfather and occasional mentor as well as headmaster, felt obliged to withdraw from Harry to protect him. This sadly made Harry even more vulnerable. 

Dumbledore tried having Harry learn the magic known as Occlumency to shield his mind from Voldemort. Since he felt he couldn't teach Harry himself, he had his most trusted professor, Potion Master Severus Snape, try to do so in his stead. Snape, who was every bit as powerful an Occlumens and Legillimens (the opposite of Occlumency, whose practitioners could read thoughts in the minds of others) as Dumbledore himself, should have been the ideal choice, especially since he was also Dumbledore's infiltrator and spy into Voldemort's band of followers, who were known to the world as the "Death Eaters."

But Dumbledore's "reformed" and most loyal fighter was also James Potter and Sirius Black's most mortal enemy, short of the Death Eaters themselves. Snape had bullied Harry since day one of year one, and Harry in turn had no respect for the Potions Master. Thus, neither master Occlumens nor natural talent did their duties. Harry didn't study, Snape tortured more than taught, and Harry learned almost nothing of Occlumency, though he did learn that his dad and godfather exhibited Snape's dirty grey knickers to most of their fellow students next to the lake at Hogwarts, with Snape still in them no less, when the three were fifth year students. In the end, this did Harry no good at all. 

Thus, Harry believed the dream Voldemort sent him that his godfather Sirius was in mortal peril at the hands of Voldemort in the Department of Mysteries, a secret warren of offices and storerooms in the very heart of the Ministry building in London. Harry tried to confirm whether or not this was true, which resulted in him being captured and almost being placed under the Cruciatus curse by Umbrage. But his attempt was foiled not by Umbrage, but by Kreacher, the lying and disloyal house-elf Black inherited from his parents and was forced to keep at his hidden house in London, where he was still in hiding. Harry, with the help of his friends Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood, escaped Umbrage's malign clutches and stormed off to London to rescue Sirius from Voldemort.

Sirius in turn found out from Snape, who tried in vain to convince Harry that his godfather was safe, that Harry was going to London to rescue him, and in turn Sirius took off to rescue _Harry._ In the ensuing battle, Harry bravely fought off Voldemort's followers with some small measure of success, and accidentally saw to the destruction of Voldemort's true desire, the only record of a prophecy concerning Harry and Voldemort. Unfortunately, Harry also saw the death of his godfather at the hand of Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius' cousin and one of Voldemort's most loyal followers.

In the days after the fateful battle, Harry learned the true contents of the prophecy, which had been told to none other than Albus Dumbledore himself. He also demolished Dumbledore's office in rage and anguish at the loss of Sirius, and Dumbledore's lack of total forthrightness that Harry knew helped cause Sirius's death. 

However, Harry blamed himself deeply for his godfather's death above all others, save Severus Snape. He also still blamed himself wrongly for the death of Cedric Diggory. This, along with the proper sadness and grief at the two deaths, had Harry teetering on the edge of an absolute abyss of depression and self loathing that wracked Harry's body and soul almost to the point of death. Harry miraculously pulled himself back from the brink, but it was the nearest run thing you saw in your life. Even now, as he walked the street in front of his aunt and uncle's house, which he never thought of as home, and was only shelter because of the blessing his mother gave him at cost of her life, he still grieved, and cried freely. Thus, he walked in the rain, that no one could see him cry.

He had also found an unshakable and steely resolve to see the prophecy through to its least bitter end. Harry, who didn't want to kill, considered it the least bitter of two ends of the prophecy for good reason. The prophecy stated, "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…" Thus, Harry was bound to kill Voldemort, or be killed by him. Not really being in that big a hurry to die, nor wanting others to be tortured or killed, Harry saw himself as having no choice but to kill Voldemort.

The prophecy _could_ have just as easily applied to Neville, who shared Harry's birthday and whose parents were also competent Aurors, the wizarding equivalent of Scotland Yard, who primarily battled Voldemort on wizarding Britain's behalf. But Voldemort, who only heard the first part of the prophecy, inadvertently chose Harry by trying to kill him. Thus, Harry held that much more an enmity towards the Dark Lord, as Voldemort could just as easily picked Neville and left him be.

Harry walked along Privet Drive deep in thought. He was shadowed discretely by two of his adult friends. For Harry was now placed under guard by Dumbledore, and the Order of the Phoenix, a society dedicated to the protection of wizarding Britain from murderous Dark Wizards, and currently chaired by Dumbledore himself. The guard was two-fold. First, ensure that Harry was finally fed and cared for by the Dursleys. This was successful. For the first time in his fifteen years at Privet Drive, he had plenty of food, he was given chores only to keep him from having time to wallow in self-destructive grief, and he was addressed respectfully if not kindly as "Harry" by his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and cousin Dudley, the boxing champion of his muggle private school, who now admired Harry after Harry rescued him from the Dementors last summer.

Their second reason was to protect Harry from Voldemort himself. Despite their best efforts the year before, Harry had in fact been attacked by the Dementors, along with Dudley. Harry's friends in turn declared that this would _never_ happen again! Thus, no less than _two_ guards were on duty at all times, to make sure that Harry was safe. In order for the blood charm to keep working, Harry had to spend time every year at the Dursley's house in Little Whinging. This time at an end, Harry was to be taken that evening to 12 Grumauld Place, London, to be with the Weasleys and Hermione Granger for the rest of the summer. 

This was not only the hidden headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, but was now Harry's property. For Sirius, who was now posthumously exonerated of all wrongdoing, had left Harry all of his property, and as the last of the Black family, Sirius had a lot of property. Harry's ancestors had been even richer. But unlike the Potter fortune, which save a small multi-million Galleon (near billion Pound Sterling) trust fund could not be touched by Harry until his seventeenth birthday, Sirius' wealth was Harry's _now,_ with the only stipulations being that the Order of the Phoenix continue to use 12 Grimauld Place rent-free as long as they needed it, and that Remus Lupin, Sirius' werewolf best-friend, Harry's beloved former Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, and James and Lilly Potter's best loyal friend apart from Sirius, would always have enough money to get by and a place to live. Harry knew neither of the inheritance nor the restrictions, but wouldn't object once he found out. For after his own parents, Sirius, and Ron's parents Arthur and Molly Weasley, Harry loved Remus as a father, and didn't think of Lupin's lyncanthropy at all. He would see to Remus' welfare, in such a manner that the proud man was not insulted by "charity," whether he was asked to or not!

Remus was usually one of Harry's "guards," but not today, for the moon was quite full, and like all werewolves, Remus was now a wolf, until the moon started to wane on the morrow. However, unlike all other werewolves, Remus was now gentle to Harry, even without the Wolfsbane Potion most werewolves took to make them less dangerous. A less cautious werewolf would still be at Harry's side. But Remus Lupin valued Harry's life and happiness way above and beyond his own. Knowing that he would slit his own throat and die before harming Harry, and knowing that his dying in such a manner would harm Harry even more severely than being bitten by a werewolf and becoming one himself, Remus was now imprisoned in a dungeon at Hogwarts at his own behest, to ensure Harry's safety during "that time of the month."

His two guards were more than enough anyway, and both friends to Harry if he decided he needed company to cry for. But they knew Harry wasn't quite ready for that, so though Harry knew they were there, he also knew they were respecting his privacy, as indeed they were. Alistor Moody was a retired Auror, and was supposed to have been Harry's DADA Professor in Harry's fourth year. Moody had instead been held prisoner and impersonated, but Moody himself still gained Harry's trust, respect, and friendship. Nymphadora Tonks, who was only addressed by her last name, was a young Auror, who had also quickly gained Harry's trust and friendship. They followed Harry at a close but discreet distance, ready in case Harry needed them for defence or to grieve with, but far enough away to let the teenage boy cry alone without shame.

As Harry drew abreast of the house of Arabella Figg, the Squib (muggle born of wizards) babysitter of his youth and Order member, he doubled over in pain! His curse scar, and his head itself felt as if it were being split by fire! This could only mean one thing, and that thing apperated barely ten feet in front of the near-prostrate youth.

Harry forced himself to stand proudly with dry eyes as his tormentor gloated, "Fortune favours the bold, Potter! I come alone, and behold, you die!"

Harry, who never went without his wand now, restrictions on juvenile wizards not withstanding, drew his wand and cast the first spell he though of! Harry's _Expellaramus_ and Voldemort's _Avada__ Kedavra_ met in mid-stream, and like in Harry's fourth year, the brother wands bound each other, and rapidly formed a gold cage separating them from Harry's guards, and everyone else.

Harry knew that Dumbledore's attitude made Voldemort most prone to mistakes, and thus adopted it as his own. He said, "Oh, hello, Tom. You know how this will end. My people can't breach the cage and kill you, and your people can't breach the cage and kill me, even if you could summon them through the cage, which you can't! Neither of us has figured out how to kill each other like this, so we'll end up chatting for a while, Mum and Dad will come out and Stun you with the help of the others you've killed lately, and we'll each retreat to lick our wounds."

"I'm _Voldemort,_ you impudent urchin!" Voldemort snapped in reply.

Harry ignored him and asked, "No matter, _Tom._ So, How's your family? Oh, I forget, you _have_ no family. No matter. Mine have been horrible, but not as bad as usual. And my friend's family, who adopted me as their own, are doing just fine, despite your best efforts."

Voldemort snarled, "I'm _not_ Tom Riddle, I'm _Voldemort!_ I'll torture you that much more before I kill you, you disrespectful toe-rag!"

Harry said soothingly, "There, there, now, _Tom!_ Don't embarrass yourself with idle threats! _Everyone_ knows you'll torture me as much as you can before you kill me anyway, if you should ever get so lucky! We've too much bad blood, and we _both_ know I'll never follow you or even surrender short of being killed!

"So, how about your Death Eaters, _Tom?_" Harry thought quickly and decided to throw a little salt into the wound. "After all, our spy is dumber than his robes and his son combined, which is saying something! I doubt he's giving Dumbledore and me the inside information we truly need?"

"I'm _Voldemort, asshole,_ and I have spies, too!"

Harry laughed in reply, "I've no doubt you do. In fact, I know who he is! But, you know Professor Dumbledore. No proof, no pudding! So, until I get the evidence, all I can do is keep him from getting anything useful."

As Voldemort tried to come up with a desperately desired retort to the teenager who he battled with, two things happened. First, Harry, who had been losing the battle of wands, took the upper hand, and Voldemort's wand was belching out repeated Crucio shadows, and was about to start yielding up the echoes of the people he had killed, the echoes who would break up the confrontation and allow Harry to flee again to safety. Secondly, and more importantly, Harry had an epiphany! Voldemort was _not_ Tom Riddle after all!

Harry's magical power, which had always been more powerful then average, was starting to grow even stronger with Harry's latest growth spurt. And, with Voldemort being thrown off guard by Harry's confrontation, Harry could now see Voldemort's soul. Or rather, Harry saw his _souls._ Harry saw the active soul, who was clearly Voldemort. He also saw another soul, that of an older boy who was yet barely a teenager. With this new found Legillimancy based sight, Harry saw that this was still a good soul, one who could be saved from his misdeeds, yet who was trapped with Voldemort in the same body. Harry saw that the soul needed two things to accept forgiveness and truly live again; a body and a loving family. Harry, who could be impulsive as well as lucky, decided to try providing both body and brotherly love to that soul who desperately needed it. 

Harry remembered all the times Professor Dumbledore told him that love was more powerful than hate. Harry, while not doubting his headmaster entirely, had not quite taken him to heart. Now, he _knew._ It wouldn't be the death-blow, but a _life-blow,_ one that in the end would bring almost as much peace and even more joy than actually killing the Dark Lord. Harry drew up his strength and serenely confronted his evil foe. 

"Ah, yes… I guess you _aren't_ Tom after all! And I always wanted to meet him, you know…" The shadow of an Auror Harry didn't know came out of Voldemort's wand as Voldemort's eyes grew to the size of saucers. 

The Auror whispered in Harry's ear, "You shouldn't be in such a hurry to fight him, Harry. But, it can't be helped…"

The Auror was followed by several more Crucios, a ghostly silver hand, and the shadow of Cedric Diggory. Cedric's shadow said, "You were always so clever, Harry! You'd have made a good Ravenclaw. You'd have made a good Hufflepuff too. Prove it again, Harry!" Harry knowingly blinked tears out of his eyes as a few more Crucios floated past.

Bertha Jorkins' shadow came out next and whispered, "Just like your dad, Harry! So brave and smart. He and your mum are so proud."

Bertha was followed by several more Crucios, then Harry's mum emerged. She whispered, "You should be more careful, Harry. It will work, though. Be strong for him, Harry, he hurts even more than you right now." Harry smiled in love and acknowledgement at his mum's shadow as the shadow of James Potter emerged from Voldemort's wand.

The shadow of Harry's dad whispered, "I feel you know the spell. Cast it when I move away from you. Grab what is good and run for your life to Alistor. We will hold what is not good as long as we can. You should be safe in your Aunt's house for a few hours, until Professor Dumbledore can collect you, which I have a feeling will be very quick indeed. Trust your feelings on this, Harry. Forgive, and _be your brother's keeper._"

The shadow moved to the edge of the cage with the others and circled around menacingly to Voldemort, and encouragingly to Harry. The teen wizard felt his strength was starting to wane, and knew he had to cast his spell _now_ to make it work.

Harry chanted loudly, with total authority, "Soul of my brother's soul, bone of my brother's father, blood of the mother of my brother's brother, flesh of my brother's brother's darkest foe, hear me! Your suffering is at an end, _come to me!_"

A blast of intense grey light came down from the heavens and engulfed the Dark Lord utterly! An unearthly tearing and agonized screams could be heard as the light separated into white and black. The black light covered Voldemort, his robes in tatters in his body quaking in weakness and fear. The white light covered something far more wondrous.

Or rather, it illuminated _someone_ more wondrous. The boy was naked, and by his appearance barely thirteen years old. He was of almost but not quite emaciated build, and average height for a thirteen year old boy. The lad had black hair and blue eyes, and had a face trapped between the beautiful of a boy and the handsome of a man. He was also stunned and utterly embarrassed, not only for what he had done when he was _free_ and thirteen, but for standing naked on Privet Drive with everyone in the neighbourhood looking at him!

Harry wasted no time. He threw the boy's right arm over his shoulder, grabbed him beneath the arm with his left, and ran for his life to and just behind Alistor Moody, who even now with the golden cage falling was casting hex after hex after the wounded Dark Lord.

Harry finally stopped several yards behind Alistor and Tonks as Voldemort apparated away to lick his wounds. He took off his rain jacket and helped the boy to don it; its length returned to the boy his modesty. Harry and the boy's knees were both quite weak, and they each sat down on the sidewalk, Harry unashamedly pulling the boy into his lap.

The boy was crying in fear, shame, and repentance as Harry held him by the shoulders. He sobbed, "_I'm sorry, so very sorry! I'm as evil as the Orphanage Matrons said I was! I can never be forgiven!"_

Harry embraced the boy tightly and let him cry on his shoulder. He answered, "I forgive you, _my brother._ I would have come for you sooner, but I'm barely more than a child myself! I know you'll never do anything like it again. I can't help but forgive you, Tom Riddle."

The thirteen year old bawled, "You're the first one to say my name and love me!"

Harry replied, "I assure you I won't be the last, my wonderful little brother! I'll help you with your studies, play Quidditch with you, cry with you, laugh with you, and even get you a date! After all, what are older brothers for, and Voldemort mucked up your love life even worse than mine!"

Tom replied, "But Harry, _I played with the Dark Arts! I thought myself better than demons, so much so that they possessed me and made me kill thousands of people, and order the killing of thousands more, including your own dad and mum1"_

Harry replied, "I _know,_ Tom! But all you can be blamed for is the Dark Arts crap! Other kids your age did almost as bad, and they should have known better! The other stuff was all Voldemort! Besides, all those decades trapped with Voldemort was far worse punishment than you deserved. I'd spank you if it made you feel any better, but that would be even more embarrassing than our blubbering all over each other in the street like we are now!"

Tom jumped back and said, "You wouldn't!"

Harry hugged Tom again and kissed him on the cheek, saying, "Gotcha, Tom! And you know I would, after all, what are older brothers for?"

Tom said in amazement, "Do you really _mean_ that, Harry?"

Harry stood up, helping Tom to his feet as he did. He said, "Of course, Tom! We are now _brothers_! I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, and you are the Boy-Who-Lived-_Again_! We have at least one and maybe two fortunes to split between the two of us, so no worries about money to attend university, either magical or muggle. My blood relatives are almost worthless, but even they will be no worse to you than me. Ron's mum and dad treat me like another son, and I'm sure you'll fare at least as good! You are my _brother_, Tom, you have a _home_ now, though even _I'm_ not sure where we call home. But, welcome home anyway, and happy birthday!"

Tom was utterly shocked and stunned, even as his older brother hugged him again firmly and again kissed his cheek. He asked timidly, "How did you know, Harry?"

Harry answered, "Brothers know these things, Tom. Now, let's get to Aunt Petunia's to get you some clothes to wear. We'll go shopping for the both of us tomorrow, but you need _something_ more than a raincoat until then. I won't have my brother dressing like a pervert, after all…"

Tom finally laughed in happiness, saying, "_Geroff__ already,_ Harry!" as he swatted his older brother away.

As they started to walk to Aunt Petunia's house, they were surrounded by several members of the Order of the Phoenix, who would beat the rest of the Aurors by only minutes at best! Alistor led the way, brandishing his wand in anger and fear of the young boy. Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and all the older Weasleys were less anxious, but more confused at the thirteen year old boy who stood beside Harry. "Get away from him, Harry!" the retired Auror said.

Harry replied, "Get real, Alistor! This is my _brother!_ I've freed him, and I say he's been punished enough! Move against my brother, you move against me!"

Molly spoke next, saying, "If you're _sure_, Harry, then I now have _two_ extra sons! Are you _really_ sure Harry?"

He answered, "More sure than anything in my life, _mum._ You have another son!" Molly's eyes moistened, and Arthur stood just a little straighter at Harry's words of love and respect. They had _two_ more sons, just for doing what was right! Even when it was bad, and it was certainly bad then, life was _good._

Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, and one of the most powerful and learned wizards of modern times chose that moment to make his appearance known, after watching most of the scene unfold. Moody, Tonks, Bill, Charley, Fred, George, Molly, and Arthur Weasley, and Kingsley Shacklebolt all stood aside for their leader. Dumbledore walked up to Harry and sized up the situation in an instant, even as Tom, who hadn't had that good a relationship with his Transfiguration Professor, hid behind his older brother.

Dumbledore asked, "Are you your brother's keeper, Harry?" 

Harry looked at his mentor, with both respect and defiance. He answered not as the boy he was, but as the man he would become. "Professor Dumbledore, I am neither Cain nor Abel. I _am_ my brother's keeper, as he is mine."

"I see you now sense some of the _true_ strength I told you of" Dumbledore said.

Harry answered, "We three all have another chance Professor; my brother, you, and I. But in times of war, chances are scarce indeed. Please help us not waste them."

Dumbledore paused and answered, "Harry, Tom, you will find I am not Severus Snape. We will work through our differences, Tom, and clean up the mess _we_ started. I accept my responsibility to you, Tom, for having failed you and having left you open to the horrors that befell you. If you can forgive me that, then I can surely forgive you your mistakes."

"Really, Professor?" the thirteen year old asked.

The headmaster replied, "Really, Tom. Besides, after so many years, you will have to be re-sorted! Too many years have gone by to take points from Slytherin for what you did then, even if you're sorted there again. And if you go to any other house, it would be beyond unfair to punish them for what you did in another house. As Harry said, you've already been punished more than enough for your mistakes. You have a brother and a family, now is the time to heal."

Student and professor hugged each other in true affection, the first time either truly felt, much demonstrated that to each other. Tom finally broke the silence by asking, "So, I won't have to go back to the orphanage?"

Dumbledore answered, "No, Tom. You have a family, now, and that orphanage, along with those who mismanaged it, are all long gone." Tom was so overjoyed that he started to dance!

Harry quickly brought his brother back to earth by saying, "You know you're dancing in the street wearing nothing but a raincoat, don't you Tom?"

Tom immediately stopped dancing and blushed beet red! He muttered "Spoilsport" to Harry sullenly.

Harry answered, "Sorry, Tom, but I thought you should know." He hugged his brother yet again.

Tom eventually said, "Geroff, Harry!" As Harry leg go, Tom added, "You said you had some clothes for me at Aunt Petunia's?"

Harry answered, "Yes. You can choose either Gryffindor school robes that will almost fit right but look weird as hell in the muggle world, or my latest hand-me-downs from my cousin Dudley, that'll be so big you'll be able to swim in."

Dumbledore interjected, "I can help there, Harry." With a quick wave of his wand, Dumbledore made Harry's clothes fit perfectly. The headmaster added, "I'll do the same for Tom once he's dressed. After that, Harry, you will pack all your belongings, and we will all go to 12 Grimauld Place. You and Tom will do your shopping in muggle London and Diagon Alley. You will both need new clothes, school books, and Tom will need a new wand. Don't worry about Tom's stuff…"

Harry cut in, saying, "Professor Dumbledore, I meant what I said to Tom, if you heard it. I'm not only my brother's keeper, but my brother's _banker_ as well. Help us where we need it, but I don't think money will be part of that."

Dumbledore said, "Well spoken, Harry. We need to get to your aunt's house, get some clothes for Tom, and get your stuff packed. Your friends want to have a surprise party for you this evening. I apologize for spoiling the surprise, but I'm sure the party will do you all some good."

Harry nodded in agreement, and the three wizards walked to Number Four Privet Drive to collect Harry's things. 


	2. We'll Meet Again

A/N  "We'll Meet Again" was first made a hit in Britain in 1939 by Vera Lynn.  I don't have the name of the lyric's author at hand.  Needless to say, it's not me.  Inspiration for the piano playing comes from ACMC, and that author's Harry Potter fan-fic "Awakenings."  Once again, disclaimers apply even to chapters they don't appear in.  "Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling, et. al.  "We'll Meet Again" is the property of someone else, et. al.  Only the plot elements are mine, et. al.  On with the story.

As the trio of wizards approached Four Privet Drive, Tom saw Vernon's company car sitting in the driveway, all the better to show it off to the neighbours.  It was a 1996 BMW mid-line four-door saloon.  Grunnings had a _very_ good year, and in good times, Grunnings treated their people right, especially their managing directors.  The car was like nothing Tom had seen before in his memory, but the blue and white spinners on the hubcaps were legendary.  Tom stopped in utter shock and gaped for a moment.  Harry was expecting excited questions, but _not_ the ones he heard.

     "What year is it, Harry?  Did Britain win the war?  And what did the Germans do to their cars?  Where are the running boards?  What about the headlamps?  You're not _Nazis, are you?_"

     Harry was stunned, but answered quickly, almost in a fog as the implications of Tom's questions started to sink in.  "It's 1996, Tom.  We won the war back in 1945, and beat Japan too.  Cars have changed a lot since then.  What is the last year you remember?  And how do you know _me?_  I was born in 1980!"

     Tom was just as stunned as Harry.  He answered bemusedly, speaking aloud to himself at first.  "I've been out of it for _fifty-seven years!_  God help me!"  He faced his new brother and said clearly, "Harry, I got possessed fifty-seven years ago today.  After that time, Voldemort let me know almost _nothing!_  I saw what my body was doing and seeing for a few months, but after that, I only knew what he let me know.  He let me see many of his murders, but nothing else.  I knew about you because I saw your dad and mum killed, and felt the curse rebound from you just as painfully as Voldemort did.  He couldn't shut up about you after that!  I saw you in the graveyard after Voldemort got his body back, and your appearance hasn't change so much since then that I couldn't recognize you.  Your magic looks the same, just stronger."

     Tom paused, and stared off into the distance.  Harry watched the youngster's face change from strong concentration almost instantly into panic!  "Harry!  The wards, they're failing!"

     Dumbledore interjected sternly, "How can you say such a thing, Tom?"

     "I can see them, _Dumbleboor__"_ the boy answered coldly.  He continued to Harry, "I could always see wards, Harry!  And I've never heard of a Blood Charm ward falling, nor have I seen one so weak.  But it's falling, and if we don't stop it, it will fall and your Aunt and Uncle will be killed for sure!"

     "And what about Harry?" Dumbledore asked politely.

     Tom replied, "There's a _second_ Blood Charm shield around him and me now… _Professor._  Sorry about that last bit.  And I can't see _that_ shield, but I feel it's a strong one, but I don't know how it got there!"

     Dumbledore answered, "Let me check something."  The ancient wizard picked a pebble out of the gutter, transfigured it into a small glass sphere, and then cast a few silent spells on it, causing it to glow a faint dull red.  He frowned, cast a few more silent spells upon the glass orb, and it glowed a bright, blinding gold that would rival the sun.  Dumbledore shook his head bemusedly and spoke again.

     "It seems, Tom, that you know far more about Blood Charms than I taught my seventh years.  You and Harry are indeed surrounded by a true Blood Charm, tied with the blood of Harry's mother.  The original charm never worked as well, because of the Dursleys' attitude toward Harry.  We need to get to the Dursleys quickly before the charm over the house fails for good."

     The three wizards quickly walked the last few steps to the Dursleys' house, Harry leading the way and letting the trio in.

     Whereupon, all hell broke loose.  Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley had all been the lounge watching the telly when the fight with Voldemort broke out, and saw almost the whole thing, including the three wizards' progress into their house.  Vernon was so furious he was beside himself, but sputtered impotently.

     His reticence was not caused by any wizard, but by his own son.  Dudley was exposed to his worst possible fear the previous summer.  And that fear was that he would suddenly become a wizard like his cousin Harry, and be unceremoniously tossed out into the street.

     This was pure rubbish, as Vernon and Petunia told their son, and the Smeltings psychiatrist time and again, being silently thankful that said psychiatrist was also a Squib.  But, to help their darling Dudders, they would do almost _anything,_ including pretend in their son's presence that Harry was not only cared for, but actually somewhat _welcome,_ provided he kept his freakish talents to himself whilst under their roof, thank you very much.

     So now, there were a few pictures of _Harry_ in the living room to go with all the pictures of Dudley, mostly old Muggles school pictures bought from the school photographer at great expense, along with a few Hogwarts pictures, suitably modified for display in front of Muggles, namely stunned so they didn't move, and with the Hogwarts house crests air-brushed out.  But Harry himself was truly no more welcome to the Dursleys then he ever was, which was to say almost not at all.

     The three wizards walked into the lounge, and Tom spoke first, hoping to diffuse things.  "Hello," he said, "I'm Tom Riddle, Harry's new brother."  He looked at Petunia and continued, "You must be Aunt Petunia.  I'm ever so glad to meet you."  He looked at Vernon and continued, "And you must be the man of the house.  Harry never said your name, what is it, sir?"

     Vernon answered furiously, "_Boy,_ my name is _Vernon_ Dursley.  _Just_ Vernon Dursley."  Vernon started to walk menacingly towards the boy.

     Tom retorted, "Well, _just_ Vernon Dursley, it takes a _real_ man to try terrifying a naked boy in a borrowed slicker!"

     Vernon stopped dead in his tracks, and became even more furious!  Tom said, "Sorry for my cheek, sir.  I know that you see me as a freak, and you hate my guts and wish I was anywhere else but here, but I'm still glad to have met you."

     Vernon shifted instantly from rage to utter bemusement.  The "new freak" had just been polite, and didn't even protest his being a freak!  But what Tom said next chilled Vernon to his very soul, and changed his attitude towards wizards, or at least one, forever.

     "By the way, sir, Dursley isn't a common name.  Did you ever know a Winston Dursley?  Did he have a good war?"

     Vernon answered cautiously, "How do _you_ know a Winston Dursley, and what friend of a boy-freak would have a war at all, good or bad?"

     "My brand of freakery, sir, included being trapped away from it all for a long, _long_, time.  In July of 1939, I met a young sergeant by that name, who stopped in the music hall I worked at, who was on his way to help the French near the Maginot Line.  Even before Hitler did Poland, we knew war was brewing.  He was a kind man, and tipped well.  I just hope he made it."

     Vernon said proudly, "My Uncle Winston, for your information, made it out at Dunkirk, landed at Normandy, and won the V.C in Market Garden, where he sadly lost his legs.  He hung on until just before Dudley was born.  I loved him even more than my father.  He was kind to Petunia, even after we found out about her sister, Harry's mum."

     Tom said sadly, "He must have been hurting badly, then.  When I knew him, he was the dancingest man I'd ever known.  To lose his legs…"

     "Boy, you've no measure of a _Dursley!_  He had artificial legs fitted, and danced better with them than most men with their own legs!  Thought he was crazier than a loon, myself, but he had so much fun, I couldn't begrudge the man!  He even danced with Petunia the day we were married, where my own dad, God rest his soul, refused."

     Petunia, who was normally the less unfriendly of the two Dursley adults broke in harshly.  "I don't believe you, _freak!_" she shouted.  Speaking just as harshly, but lowering her voice to a dull roar, she continued, "You've got to _prove_ what you're saying!  See that piano?" she asked, pointing to the piano the Dursleys kept just to impress their guests.  Tom nodded.  She said in a snarl, "_If_ you are any part of my family, you can play that piano like Rachmaninoff!  _Play it!"_

     Harry and Dumbledore were totally non-plussed at Petunia's request.  Tom looked at her like she had grown another head.  He said, "Harry is my brother, Aunt Petunia, because he said I was, and I agreed with him.  But I've played the piano as long as I can remember!  If a music hall show will get you to finally _listen_ to me…"

     Tom walked to the piano and sat at the bench before it.  He lifted the cover from the keys, and started to play.  At first, he played the songs he played in the music hall in the late thirties, when the piano was the largest thing between him and hunger.  But as he played, he thought again of those times, of Sergeant Winnie, and of his first friend, his first _girlfriend,_ the one who helped him put the demons behind him for those two years he remembered being a student at Hogwarts.  He then played an old Vera Lynn song, one that to him was still a top-40 hit, and sang along in a voice that was still deepening, but was once again unbroken.

"We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when   
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day   
Keep smiling through, just like you always to do   
Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away   
  
"And so I'll just say "Hello" to the folks that  know   
Tell 'em you won't be long   
They'll be happy to know that when I saw you go   
You were singing this song   
  
"We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when   
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day.

     He played an instrumental interlude, speaking from the depths of his soul to his former love, who was now too old to even be his mother.

"Oh Mary!  The times were all wrong for us!  I remember the day we kissed our first kiss as if it were this morning.  And truly, as I've lived time, it's only been a month.  But for you, it's been over half a century!  You're either a grandmother, a spinster, or dead.

"As God is my witness, I pray to Him that you are a grandmother!  The kindness and affection you showed me carried me through a lifetime of torment, and have seen me to this day; a day where I might perhaps finally have a life.  I owe you a wizard's debt such as no man has owed before, save the even greater debt I owe my big brother.  Fair wind and following seas, Mary Germaine.  I'll always love you, and I pray you found someone else who loved you just as much.

His style of playing was a cross between Eroll Gardener and Dave Brubeck, and rivaled both in artistry and emotional intensity.  It was as if the large wooden instrument was indeed an extension of his very soul, and that his soul was deeper than the deepest of oceans.  He played lyrically in an improvisation, before playing and singing the final refrain.

"We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when   
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day."

He stopped playing and burst into uncontrollable crying, resting his head on the keyboard.  Dumbledore silently shed several tears for the heartache of the young student he still didn't quite trust, and was only starting to know.  Harry thought to himself, "My new kid brother was mates with Uncle Vernon's _uncle?  What have I gotten myself into?_"  Petunia stared at the boy, her soul on fire.  For, she _knew_ now that the child was _somehow_ related to her!  Lilly Evans, her sister, played the piano just like Tom did, though her style was gentler, and more feminine.  As she remembered, minus her usual jealousy, every magic relative of hers (and she knew of more than she let on) could play the piano perfectly in tune with their own souls, without so much as a hint of lessons.  That was why she both had a piano, and forbade Harry to go near it except to dust it.  She said dully, "You _are_ my blood, Tom, just as you say."

Vernon was somewhat more active.  He said firmly but politely to Dumbledore, "Dumbledore, do that fr… that _stuff_ that you do and twaddle us up some tea?  Tommy needs it."  He then went to his liquor cabinet, and took out a bottle of sixteen year old Bushmill's Irish Whiskey and two glasses, pouring each glass full.  He sat down on the bench next to Tom, offered one glass to him, and gently asked, "Tommy?"

The boy answered, "_Sergeant Winnie?"_  Tom then looked up as he came back to modern times.  He accepted the glass from Vernon, and both stood.  As one, they raised their glasses, entoned, "Uncle Winston!" and slowly drained the glasses dry.  Tom said, "This is much smoother than either Sergeant Winnie or I could afford in 1939.  Thank you, sir."

Vernon said, "You're 'Tommy the Piano Boy.'"

Tom answered, "Only you, Sergeant Winnie, and maybe Harry would get away with calling me 'Tommy.'  But yes, that's what Uncle Winston called me.  I called him 'Sergeant Winnie,' he called me 'Tommy the Piano Boy,' and we both pissed each other off no end.  But he loved to dance, I loved to play, he tipped well, and we loved each other as brothers.  Did he ever marry, sir?"

Vernon answered, "No.  His fiancé was killed in the Blitz.  He's buried here in Little Whinging, if you have the time to visit by.  He's just twenty yards south of the cenotaph.  I had a nice stone put in when I had him buried, it'll be hard to miss."

"I'll have to have Professor Dumbledore make us a second Portkey, or we'll have to leave from there, sir.  It's been fifty-seven years since I've seen your uncle last.  Least I can do is visit his grave.

"But that gets me back to what I needed to tell you and Aunt Petunia in the first place!  I can tell you loathe magic, but you've got to listen to this!  You know nothing about Blood Charms, but _you_ have been protected by one ever since Harry came to live here!

"There are evil people out there, Uncle Vernon, not just freaks like me but _Hitlerite_ freaks, who want you and Aunt Petunia dead, and _nothing_ you can do will change their minds!  They wanted you dead just as badly _before_ you took Harry in, so don't blame him.

"When Harry's mum was murdered, she used her magic, and Harry's to place a shield on Harry, _and on you, once you took him in._  If you'd have treated him like a son, or at least a nephew, the shield would have been strong enough to stop almost _anything._  But, you didn't, and it wasn't.  No matter, water under the bridge.

"But you've _got_ to change your ways!  They're going to attack, in a few weeks, maybe a few months, but they _will attack!_  If the shields are as week as they are now, you, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley will _die!_  There will be no way you can be saved, even if Harry and I are here when they come!  Professor Dumbledore doesn't have enough wizards in his command to put enough guards on this place, and even if the wizarding government had them, they are too incompetent and corrupt to be relied upon.  Only the Blood Charm has a chance to keep you alive, but only if you _help_ it!  You have to finally accept Harry, if not love him.  For the Charm works on your _hearts, _not your words!  Accept my brother, and you may live.  Continue to reject him, and you will die.  It tears my heart out to have Sergeant Winnie's grave to visit.  Please spare me from visiting your before I've even had to shave!"

Tom had grasped both of Uncle Vernon's biceps in his hands and looked him squarely in the eye as he said this.  Uncle Vernon silently broke Tom's hold, and embraced the boy as a son.  He answered, "You are no freak, Tom.  Uncle Winston said you weren't, so it must be true!  I promised Uncle Winston three things on his _death bed!_  I promised that if ever I met you I would stand you to a drink of the best whiskey I could get.  I promised to show you to his grave.  And I promised that I would bring you and yours into my life as best I could, and help you and yours as best I could, for all my living days.  Harry is your brother.  I fear he will never like me, in my attempt to drive the magic that frightened me from him I was cruel and spiteful.  But, you and he are welcome under this roof as long as I have the roof to place you under."  With tears in his eyes, Vernon embraced Tom again, releasing him not less than a minute later.

Harry sensed what had happened to the wards in the first place, knowing the tenuous nature of his relationship to his aunt and uncle.  Having seen out the unexpected reunion that followed, Harry had an idea as to the current state of the wards over his aunt and uncle's house.  He asked, "Tom?  Could you look out the window and tell me how the wards are doing?"

As Tom walked to the window to look, he answered, "Sure, Harry!  Though I've _never_ seen wards so weakened… _God Damn! Bloody Hell! Motherfuck! Ow! Ow! OW!"_  Tom fell writhing to the floor, clutching his eyes in agony.

Vernon said, "I never heard Uncle Winston swear like that, Tom."

Tom replied, "I've never seen Sergeant Winnie have white-hot bayonets shoved into his eyeballs either, Uncle Vernon!  Sorry, Aunt Petunia, but the wards are now so strong they nearly took the top of my head off!"

Harry laughed gently at Tommy's outburst, an outburst he himself would never have gotten away with under any circumstances at all, and smooth apology for the same.  He then sniffed the air and noticed that his younger brother was ripening quite nicely under the rain slicker, not a nice thing at all.

Harry said sternly, "Tom!  Upstairs!  Shower!  Soap!  Deodorant!  Brush teeth, toothpaste!  Though I'm tempted to suggest soap!  NOW!"

Tom looked dejectedly at his older brother, but answered, "Yes, Harry" and went up the stairs without another word.

Harry looked at Professor Dumbledore and asked, "Did they have aerosol deodorant in 1939?

The Hogwarts Headmaster answered, "No.  You might help him when he gets to that point.  But why in Merlin's name did you adopt _Tom Riddle_ as your brother, Harry?"

Harry answered, "Tom is my _brother,_ Professor.  No reason is needed."  Harry walked upstairs to help his brother get cleaned up and dressed.


End file.
